China is Hopeless
by BeggarsCan'tBeChoosers
Summary: China muses on his current situation. Written from the prompt: 'China is hopeless'


PROMPT – China is hopeless XD

China is hopeless – gradually being absorbed by Japan?

China is hopeless – traffic conditions appalling?

China is hopeless – poverty?

China sighed, pulling the tie out of his long dark hair and running his delicate hands through it. He glared at his reflection in the window opposite his desk. Not only did he _feel_ pathetic, he looked it too. America had made the link recently, comparing the slender Asian nation to a: 'damsel in distress', of all things. China was _not_ a damsel in distress. He was 4000yrs old, for crying out loud! He wouldn't have survived this long, against violence and invaders and political unrest, if he was as weak and delicate as his appearance suggested! He slammed the top of his laptop down, irritated, then winced, lifting it back up to check he hadn't damaged it. Of course not. Gone were the days when such a gesture would have broken both the plastic and metal and the thick wooden desk beneath. His strength was… Waning. He stood, moving to the window, looking down at Beijing, the busy streets, crowded with cars, bicycles and rickshaws, both old and new together, the shining glass, the older areas and, further out, the slums, where bare-footed children ran, their modesty barely covered by the rags that were all they could afford. That was the cause of his headache today. Ever since the Olympics, there had been more of a focus on the slums. It had started simply, an investigation into the vast pollution the city produced each year – the cars and industry had been a large contributing factor, but also…

Coal stoves. The slums used them for cooking and heating, having no other option. In terms of the whole, the emissions were a small fraction. But whilst investigating, the media had caught on to the state of the slums and now, the entire world was aware of the ancient nation's impoverished areas. And all of the effort he and his government had gone to in an attempt to hide the poverty for the duration of the Olympics had gone to waste, as now, everyone knew. The richer nations looked at him with pity in their eyes. The poorer ones _actually _tried to _relate_ to him. Just because he had some slums, just because a large percentage of his population lived below the poverty line, did _not_ mean he was on the same level as those financially-crippled countries. Call it pride, perhaps lingering from his days as a great imperialistic nation – and how he had cried; pained, pointless tears each time he lost one of his beloved emperors, no matter the circumstances, no matter the public's opinion of him – but he did not want to be associated with that kind of destitution. He was better than that, damnit! When one thought of China, they did not think of starving children, slums, pollution! They thought of resplendent silks, rich colours, traditional parades, The Great Wall! But the sad truth was… That time was behind him. Whilst he was trying to attain that high standard once more, the fact remained that he had poverty. And quite a lot of it.

Which led him back full circle. He sighed, pressing both palms, and then his forehead, to the cool glass. He was loosing hope. For so long, he had endured… 4000 years. Surely, by now, he deserved a rest? He looked down at his heart once more. Busy, bustling – full of the lives he fought fiercely to defend, from the very beginning. Not one of the people down there would have been here today were it not for his passionate love for each of his children, their long-dead ancestors. He touched two fingers to the centre of his chest, feeling the happy thrum beneath, in time with the rhythm of the city below and around him. Here was why he carried on in this way, despite the pressures from other nations, from his allies and enemies alike. Here was why he dealt with power-hungry politicians, scary neighbours – (naming no names, but China inadvertently glanced to the north, where he could practically feel Russia's looming presence) and the ache in his bones that came from so many long years.

His people. For in the end, they were all that really mattered.

China smiled softly, and sat back down at his desk, restarting his laptop. He had paperwork to finish.


End file.
